Date: Mon, 12 May 2014 10:13:55 -0700
From: R B
Subject: Red Hood Rising Part 1
This story is a work of FICTION. The events described are my own invention.
Any similarities to actual events or persons are strictly coincidental. The
author retains the copyright, and any other rights, to this original story.
You may not publish it or any part of it without my explicit authorization.
This story contains depictions of consensual sexual acts between teenage
males. It is intended for mature audiences only. If you are under the
legal age to read said material; please proceed no further.
Disclaimer: This story is based on the characters of DC Comics Batman
series. All rights to these characters belong to DC comics.
Comments are always welcome: castoryteller@hotmail.com
Red Hood Rising
Part One: Death is Only the Beginning.
It was almost like an out of body experience. He was detached from
everything, floating above his body watching the action unfold but he felt
every twinge of pain. Looking down he saw himself, he was wearing some
kind of red costume, red with a black cape, a stylized R emblazoned on his
chest. He was on his knees, his wrists bound behind his back and his
ankles bound together. There was a woman there; she was older with a kind
face, dark hair and eyes filled with terror.
"Lemme know which hurts worse, K?" said a voice from the shadows.
"What are you talking about, I don't..."
That's when the clown came into view. He wore a purple suit, white pancake
makeup and sinister red lips. The clown was also carrying a crowbar and
before he could finish his sentence, the clown struck him in the chest and
then the back.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
He fell on his face only to have the clown kick him onto his back.
"Forehand or backhand?" asked the clown.
"Go to hell," the boy replied.
"Ok sweet pea, you can have both."
The clown struck him again only this time the crowbar made contact with the
left side of his face and then the right. He could feel his cheekbone
fracture and it was a miracle his jaw wasn't broken.
"Stop. Leave him alone!" the woman shouted.
"Awww, but we're just getting started," the clown laughed wickedly. When he
heard the boy mumble, he knelt by his side.
"What's that you said, pumpkin? You probably have a few broken ribs.
Make's breathing a little hard, don't it?"
The boy was defiant. He spit blood at the clown, catching the lapel of his
suit. "That the best you can do?"
"Now that's just bad manners. I can see I'm going to have to give you an
etiquette lesson."
The clown beat him savagely, laughing his sickening maniacal laugh with
every scream the boy cried out.
"Please, please just leave him alone!" the woman cried. The clown had been
beating the boy for several minutes now, there couldn't be much left. He'd
stopped crying and let out pained sighs as his body was abused.
"Alright, I suppose that's a suitable lesson," said the clown. "Oh, here's
a little something to remember me by."
The boy could barely see through his damaged eyes but he watched as the
clown walked behind the woman and grabbed her by the neck. He twisted her
head like the cork on a Champaign bottle and the sickening crunch told the
boy she was dead before she hit the floor.
"Why did you do that? You didn't have to kill her!" The boy shouted but
his lynx was so badly damaged it came out as nothing more than a hiss.
"What's that kiddo?" asked the clown, holding his hand up to his ear.
The boy couldn't repeat himself. It had taken all of his strength to lift
his head the first time. There was nothing left for a second round.
"Not talking now? Well, it doesn't matter. I've got to get going. Give
the big man a hug for me. That's a good lad."
With that, the clown disappeared, leaving the boy to die along-side the
woman he'd murdered. The boy rolled onto his side, it made it easier to
breathe, and that's when he saw the clock. Something was wrong, it was
counting down backwards. The boy blinked as the clock struck 0:00:00.
When he opened his eyes, something was different. His hands and ankles
where no longer bound. He was flat on his back and it was pitch dark. He
tried to feel his way around but there wasn't much room, it was like being
trapped in an air conditioning duct.
He felt around his body, searching for a pocket and hoping he'd find
something, anything that might provide light or tell him where he was. He
wasn't wearing the red costume anymore; from the feel of it he was wearing
a suit and tie. Where am I that I'd be in a suit and trapped in some kind
of box...a coffin? Oh God! I'm in a coffin!
"Help me! Someone help me! Please, let me out!" He kicked and pounded on
the coffin walls but no one came to his rescue.
Devin shot up in bed gasping for breath. He panted heavily as he realized
it was just another nightmare, he was safe and sound in his bed. He laid
back and continued to catch his breath. He hated that nightmare! He had
it several times a week and each time he woke feeling like he'd been
suffocated. He knew the nightmare had some meaning for him but didn't know
what it might be.
He was 14 years old but he only remembered the last year of his life,
everything before that was a blank. If he could just remember why he was
wearing that red costume and what the R on the chest meant, maybe he'd have
some answers to his many questions. He concentrated as hard as he could
but the effort bore no fruit. He couldn't say he was surprised, this had
been going on for months now and no answers ever came.
He let out a disappointed sigh and climbed out of bed. Morning sunlight
filled the room and as he yawned and stretched, he looked out his window at
the sprawling al Ghul compound and the Carpathian Mountain's towering
beyond the walls. It was a cold morning, there had been snow the night
before and the old castle was as drafty as a leaky shack. He put on his
robe and slippers and meandered down to the kitchen for breakfast.
There was a full staff of servants, including an excellent chef, but the al
Ghul's always gathered in the kitchen for breakfast alone. Talia insisted
on preparing breakfast for her father and her boy's. Devin found his
mother at the stove scrambling eggs, his grandfather sat at the head of the
table behind his morning paper and the boy took his usual seat. He slumped
into the chair, folded his arms on the table and rested his chin on his
hands while he waited for breakfast.
"Good morning my darling," said Talia.
"Morning mom," he yawned.
"Did you sleep well? You look so tired."
"I had the nightmare again," he sighed.
"Did you remember anything this time?"
"No. I tried laying back and concentrating like you taught me but it's a
waste of time. Nothing ever changes."
"Devin, you mustn't give up so easily. The answers will come in time."
"I guess so. I'm so tired of having to rely on everyone else to tell me
who I was before you found me and brought me home."
"My poor boy," said Talia. She ran her fingers through his jet black hair
and kissed the top of his head. "All good things to those who wait. Now
eat your breakfast."
She placed a platter of food in front of him and as he picked up his fork,
the door opened to reveal his 12 year old brother and their training
master, Sifu Quan. The boy looked like Devin in miniature, the only real
difference between them was Damian's eyes were a piercing blue while
Devin's were a dazzling shade of green.
"Good morning family," Damian chirped. He strode into the kitchen like the
king of the castle and took the seat across from his brother.
"How was training this morning?" asked Talia. This wasn't a question for
her son; Sifu Quan gave her a report every morning.
"Master Damian is an excellent student. I have no doubt he will be the
finest warrior the Society of Shadows has ever produced. This one," said
the ancient kung fu master as he pointed an accusing finger at Devin, "this
one missed his training session this morning."
"Devin wasn't feeling well. He'll train with you after breakfast. Will
that be sufficient?" said Talia.
"As always my lady, your deft touch commands my obedience," the old master
bowed.
"Thank you. That will be all," said Talia, dismissing him.
Damian waited until the family was alone then a wicked grin spread across
his face.
"Awww, did Devy have the scary clown dream again?"
"Shut up Damian," Devin warned.
"I'm concerned about you big brother. I don't want clowns tormenting you
in your sleep. How am I supposed to enjoy that?"
"You're so lucky you're 12. If you were older I'd..."
"You'd what? Let me beat you up again?"
That really got under Devin's skin. Damian, though only 12, had been
training in the martial arts since he could walk. This was all new to
Devin and while he was a fast learner, he wasn't his little brother's
equal, not yet. That was a fact he'd learned one morning when the brat had
kindly offered to spare with him and almost broke his arm.
"Just back off," Devin huffed.
"Or what? You can't threaten me. You're only here because mother won't
let me kill you," Damian taunted.
"Yeah, well, you're only here because mom says you're too big to abort."
"How dare you," Damian exclaimed, his cheeks turning red.
Damian may have been the better fighter but Devin knew how to press his
buttons and often got his revenge by getting under the little boy's skin.
"Boy's," said grandfather. He didn't shout, didn't even put down his
newspaper but the simple word stopped his grandsons in their tracks.
Their eyes grew slightly wider at the sound of his voice. Grandfather had
never hurt them, he'd never spanked them, never even raised his voice to
them but they knew he was a man to be respected, obeyed and maybe even
feared.
"Damian, stop tormenting your brother and eat your breakfast," said Talia.
"But mother, I was only teasing him," the little boy smiled.
"I know my treasure, now eat," she ruffled his black hair and kissed the
top of his head, just like she'd done with Devin.
Devin rolled his eyes and seeing that Talia couldn't see his face at the
moment, Damian stuck out his tongue at the older boy. When they were
finished with their meal, Damian left to shower and attend his lessons
while Talia ordered Devin back to his room to change before heading to the
gym. Once the boys were gone, she brought her coffee to the table and sat
with her father.
"If I put him in one of the rejuvenation pits, he'd stop having those
nightmares," said Ra's al Ghul.
"No," said Talia.
"How long do you think you can continue this charade my dear?"
"The boy need's to train. If Jason learns his real identity now, he'll
want to return to Gotham City. That is not conducive to our plans."
"Agreed, but do you think it's wise to parade him around as your son?"
"A boy need's a mother."
"Your sentiment amuses me," father smiled.
"It's not sentiment. You raised daughters, boys are different. A mother's
gentle embrace can do more to insure obedience then the harshest rebuke.
And Damian need's a brother. Having Devin around is good for him."
"As you say my dear."
"I notice you're rather permissive with the boys," said Talia.
"Of course, I'm quite fond of them. After all, one is my grandson and the
other, well, he's a fine lad. He'll be very useful to me when the time
comes. I do, however, wish you'd do something about their bickering. You
know I don't like to be disturbed while I'm reading."
"Yes father, I'll speak to them this afternoon."
Talia settled in her chair and sipped her coffee while her father returned
to his morning edition of the International Herald Tribune. She thought
back to the first time she'd seen Jason, over a year ago. Word had come
from her operatives in Gotham City. A strange boy who matched the
description of Batman's erstwhile partner, Jason Todd, had been spotted
running with a local street gang. The only problem was Jason Todd was
supposed to be dead and buried on the grounds of Wayne Manor.
Talia set out for Gotham City the same day the report had arrived. Her
father believed they might use the boy. Batman was his most powerful
enemy; he'd been trained by the Society of Shadows, by Ra's al Ghul
himself, only to turn his back on the Demon and his ideals. Ra's believed
turning Batman's adopted son into a fierce killer, a weapon to be wielded
as his will demanded, would be the ultimate payback for Batman's betrayal.
One day Ra's would unleash the boy on Gotham City as a plague on the House
of Wayne. With an army of Shadow Soldiers at his command Devin would raise
Batman's kingdom to the ground while his would be grandfather looked on
with pride.
Talia's motives were more conflicted. Batman, Bruce Wayne, was the father
of her son, Damian. She'd participated in his training and had fallen in
love with him. He left before the child was born, never knowing he had a
son and natural heir. She saw Jason as an opportunity for Batman to give
her another child.
The boy was easy enough to find. When Talia arrived in Gotham City, her
operatives had already set up surveillance on the gang members he
associated with. It was only a matter of time until the boy appeared. She
didn't have to wait long, she saw him that night and though he looked a
little undernourished, thanks to life on the mean streets, there was no
denying who he was. They stalked him through the night and into the next
morning. When the boy finally parted from his friends, Talia made her
move.
There was no recognition in his eyes when she approached him. There was no
hint of a trap, no sign this was an elaborate ruse by Batman to draw Talia,
her father or the Society out from the shadows. The boy was on the street
alone. Talia concocted her story on the spot.
"Devin, my darling, it's you!"
"Uh, what?"
"Devin, don't you recognize me? It's mother."
"Sorry lady, my name's Ricky." That was the name they'd given him on the
street.
"No. Your name is Devin al Ghul. You were taken from me 12 years ago and
I've been looking for you ever since," Talia gushed.
"No, what? I don't..."
"You don't remember. Of course you don't, you were just a baby."
"It's not that, it's just...I don't have any memories," he sighed.
"Come home with me my darling, let me help you."
It had taken a little more convincing but the life she offered him sounded
better than the life he was leading on the streets. She promised him
answers, promised she'd help him remember and so he'd taken her hand and
followed her back to her car. They left Gotham City that night. By the
time their plane took off, everyone the boy knew, his gang friends and the
people who knew him from the streets, was dead. Talia couldn't afford to
have one of them notice the boy was gone. Batman must never know his
sidekick was alive, and in her care, so she eliminated anyone who could
potentially raise awareness.
She named him Devin. She'd always liked the name and planned to give it to
her second son but the opportunity had never come. She presented Devin to
her father and son as her long lost child who was finally home to resume
his rightful place. Damian was skeptical. His mother had never spoken
about any other son but ever obedient, her word was good enough for him.
She spent weeks probing and prodding him with questions. He answered as
best he could but anytime they got close to how he'd ended up on the
streets, he drew a blank. Talia wanted to know how he'd been declared dead
and how he got out of his grave. The memory had clearly traumatized the
boy and his mind was blocking it in order to protect him. Then the dreams
began to manifest themselves. She'd been nervous at first. If he realized
he was Robin then he'd also realize he was Jason Todd and definitely not
Devin al Ghul.
Fortunately the costume from the dream and its stylized R remained a
mystery to him. Unfortunately, so did his escape from death. It was a
difficult situation, Talia couldn't get the information she wanted without
the boy learning the truth but the timing wasn't right. She needed to make
him her son, if he believed the al Ghul's were his family it would be
harder for him to leave them behind and return to Gotham City. This suited
her father's purposes but also hers. Talia had grown to care about the
boy, she was sorry he'd suffered and was unwilling to let him go.
She was as protective of Devin as she was of Damian and had begun to see
him as her ultimate insurance policy. Damian would one day succeed his
grandfather as the Demons Head. He would need good generals around him,
generals he could trust not only to execute his orders but also keep him
safe. Men might swear oaths and promise loyalty but no one would guard him
as closely and carefully as a brother. That is if she could get them to
stop arguing for more than five minutes. Training was the answer. The
boys must learn to work together, than they would be unstoppable.
Devin usually looked forward to training. Getting beaten up by Damian had
humiliated him and he was determined to improve if only to prevent further
shame. It's not like Damian was a normal 12 year old; that much was clear.
Still, he was a foot shorter and 30 pounds lighter. Sifu Quan told Devin
the answer to the problem was training and so the boy dedicated himself to
learning. After breakfast, he put on his gi and reported to the gym as his
mother ordered.
"You are late," Sifu Quan spat when Devin walked into the gym.
"I came as soon as I finished breakfast," Devin argued.
"Training begins at 6:00am, not 9:30."
"Mom said..."
"Your mother loves you. It is her job to coddle you, not mine. In this
gym, training beings at 6:00am," the master admonished.
"Yes sifu," Devin bowed respectfully.
"As punishment, you will do 100 pushups."
"Yes sifu," Devin complied, dropping down too his hands and knees.
"Knuckles, not palms."
Devin curled his hands into fists and started to count off," 1, 2, 3, 4...
The pushups were no problem for him. A naturally athletic boy, Devin had
been skin and bones when he'd arrived in the Carpathian Mountains. A year
of good food and training had sculpted his young body into a finely tuned
machine. Tall for his age and powerfully built, Devin would be a force to
be reckoned with when his training was complete.
Devin's training was different from Damian's. Damian began to train in the
martial arts almost as soon as he could walk. Each lesson presented him
with a new challenge. His training was designed to teach him how to adapt,
overcome and conquer. Devin was thrown right into the deep end of the
ocean. Sifu Quan and his sparing partners came at him with everything they
had. Devin survived thanks to his natural instincts; at least that's what
he was led to believe.
Sifu Quan was one of the few people in the castle who knew any details
about Devin's amnesia. The old master was told the boy had been well
trained in the past and it was his job to revive the skills Devin had
learned. What Devin didn't know was he had nothing to fear from his little
brother. Sifu Quan had rigged the sparring match between the two boys in
order to give Damian the advantage. He stopped the match when he did
because if Devin had regained the upper hand, he might have killed the
child.
When Devin was finished with his pushups, Sifu Quan ran him through his
forms. Forms are set combinations of movements, kicks and punches, a
martial artist masters. He can use these forms to his advantage in a
fight, improvising along the way in order to meet whatever attack he faces.
Devin ran through the forms over and over, harder and faster with each
round. When his reflexes were as sharp as they were going to get and he
was dripping with perspiration, Sifu Quan called on the boy's sparring
partner.
His partner, Paulo, was a member of the Society of Shadows. An elite
soldier, he was chosen to be part of the honor guard whose lives were sworn
to Ra's al Ghul. One hundred and fifty of them guarded the castle and were
responsible for protecting not only their master but also his family. The
soldier's oath stopped at the door to the gym. In training his orders were
to do everything in his power to kill his teenaged opponent. It was up to
Devin's skill, and the Sifu's watchful eyes, to keep him safe.
In battle you must never hesitate. If you give your opponent time to think,
time to react, you're as good as dead. Paulo went on the offensive as soon
as he entered the room. He launched a probing attack at Devin, punching
and kicking at the boy, forcing him to reveal his defenses. Devin was
prepared for this and studied his opponent's moves. Paulo was
concentrating too hard on Devin's reactions, when the boy figured this out,
Paulo was finished.
The trained soldier came at Devin with a punch toward the face. He
expected the boy to block with his left arm and force him back with a kick
to the solar plexus. Instead, Devin grabbed Paulo's wrist and twisted his
body into the soldier. He used his upper body strength to flip the soldier
over his shoulder and moved quickly to place him in a choke hold. With the
air to his lungs cut off, Paulo knew he was defeated. He raised his arms
and held his palms up in submission. Devin held the lock on his opponent's
throat, waiting for Sifu Quan to end the match. All he would have to do is
give his arm a yank and Paulo would be dead.
"Well done Devin," Sifu Quan applauded, "finish him."
"He is finished, he submitted," said Devin, confused at the order.
"Kill him."
"When the enemy submits you're supposed...wait, what?"
"Kill him. Snap his neck. End it."
"You're joking, right?"
"Do it boy, do it now."
"I-I can't do that!" Devin exclaimed. Was Sifu Quan out of his mind? This
was just a sparring match!
"You must, it's the next step in your training."
"N-no," Devin stuttered.
"Focus your hate on your enemy. He is defeated, end him."
"I don't hate Paulo."
"Very well, concentrate on someone you do hate. Your brother, Damian,
perhaps."
Devin released Paulo and as the soldier fell to his knees, panting for
breath, Devin rounded on the kung fu master and got in his face.
"I do not hate my brother," said Devin, coldly, with menace in his voice.
"The Society of Shadows will not stand for failure. Your mother will hear
of this."
"Yeah, you're damned right she will," said Devin. He pushed past the old
man and stormed out of the gym.
He didn't even stop to clean up first; he shivered in his sweaty gi as he
searched the castle for his mother. To say he was upset was an
understatement. First his trainer demanded he kill someone and then when
he couldn't do it he tried to rouse his anger by getting him to picture his
little brother! "I don't hate my brother," he'd said but what troubled him
most about the encounter was the thought that maybe it was a lie. Damian
irritated him beyond measure. He was a mean and nasty brat who wouldn't
give hurting Devin a second thought but was Devin truly capable of hating
him? Would he kill him if given the chance?
Those questions plagued his mind as he roamed the castle. I do not hate
Damian. I could never kill him. He kept telling himself that but there
was a little voice in the back of his mind that screamed, or could you?
"He's a pain in the ass but he's just a little boy," Devin whispered to
himself as he rounded a corner and ran straight into Ubu.
Ubu was grandpa's bodyguard and most loyal servant. The man was built like
a brick wall and when Devin ran into him, he bounced off like a rubber ball
and ended up sprawled out on the rug. Devin looked up at the hulking
bodyguard and silent as death, Ubu picked him up and placed him back on his
feet.
"You were saying something about a pain in the posterior, I believe?" said
Ra's when Ubu stepped aside.
"What? Oh yeah, um never mind that," Devin spluttered. Ubu with his cold
dead eyes always made him jittery. "Have you seen my mom?"
"I'm afraid she's gone into town for the afternoon," said Ra's.
"Do you know when she'll be back?"
"She didn't say."
"Oh, ok," he sighed. "Sorry to bother you grandpa."
"Nonsense, something is troubling you?"
"Yeah, you could say that."
"Ubu and I have a business matter to attend to but then I was going to take
a stroll in the garden. Why don't you take a shower and get dressed, then
we can chat?"
"Yeah, ok," Devin nodded. "Thanks."
"Think nothing of it my boy," Ra's smiled. He may have questioned Talia's
plan but he had no problem embracing the boy as his grandson. What he told
his daughter was true, he was fond of Devin. He was a fine lad.
Devin went up to his room and showered quickly. He put on a fresh pair of
boxer briefs and two pairs of socks. He was going outside with his grandpa
and his feet always got cold in the snow. Next he selected jeans, a
t-shirt and a hooded sweatshirt. He donned his coat, scarf and gloves but
left the knit cap behind. Cold or not, he thought the cap made him look
stupid. He found Ra's waiting in the English garden with Ubu. The old man
wore a heavy cloak; it was something from the past that contrasted with the
modern business suit he wore beneath it.
Ra's knew Ubu intimidated the boy; he intimidated nearly everyone which was
part of the reason why he'd been selected for bodyguard duty. It would be
very hard to kill someone when their protectors had you ready to crap your
pants from a hard look.
"Ubu, wait here. I'll be fine with my grandson," said Ra's, in an attempt
to put the boy at ease. The massive servant nodded, crossed his arms over
his chest and leaned against the stone wall.
"Thanks," said Devin, as they began their walk.
"Think nothing of it," said Ra's. "Tell me my son, what trouble's you."
"Well, I just came from my training session with Sifu Quan and, well, he
wanted me to kill Paulo," said Devin.
"And? Did you?"
"Of course not! How could I? Why would I?" Devin exclaimed.
"It's the next logical step in your training."
"That's what Sifu Quan said but I don't understand. Why should I kill
anyone? He hasn't done anything to me!"
"My son, I think it's time you learned the truth about our family," said
Ra's. "What do you know about my work?"
"Well, you're the head of the Society of Shadows, uh, whatever that is,"
said Devin, feeling foolish for not knowing more.
"Haven't you ever questioned why we live in this castle and why we're
protected as we are?"
"Sure, but to be honest, I've been preoccupied with my own problems," Devin
admitted.
"Understandable. Having no memory of who you are or where you've been must
be very difficult."
"You can say that again," Devin sighed.
Ra's smiled and patted the boy on the shoulder.
"Throughout time we've been known by many names. The Society of Shadows,
the League of Assassin's, the Brotherhood of the Demon, they're all the
same. All belong to the Demon," said Ra's.
"Ok, so who's this Demon?"
"You're looking at him," Ra's grinned.
"Whoa," Devin muttered.
"Many years ago, long before you were born, long before your mother was
born, I became a student of the world, the way it works and the way we
human's treat it. Our planet is decidedly out of balance. War, poverty,
starvation, all of these terrible things are the result of man's appetites
and his locust like ability to consume and destroy. I set out to create a
better world for my children and grandchildren by helping the Earth return
to its natural state."
"How do you do that?"
"Simple, my boy. What do you do when you have a virus?"
"Uh, take antibiotics?"
"You kill the virus," Ra's smiled.
"So you mean..."
"The Society, the League, the Brotherhood, what have you, exists to restore
balance by eliminating the Earth's natural predator, man."
"That sounds a lot like murder to me," said Devin.
"It may seem like that on the surface but we are not wholesale killers. We
exist to punish the wicked, create justice where injustice thrives and
restore order where chaos runs rampant. We seek to balance the Earth by
eliminating the worst elements of society."
"Ok, that makes sense. You're sort of like a law unto yourself?"
"Man has grown too soft. There must be men who put their emotions aside
and make the tough decisions. Man cannot be ruled by emotion, he must find
reason in the things he does. Is it logical to imprison a man time and
time again or is society better served by removing the cancer?"
"When you put it that way I understand but I still don't see why I should
have killed Paulo."
"Paulo was chosen to aide in your training because he is a skilled and
loyal warrior. You and your brother are the Demon's future; you must be
strong, fearless and resolute. You know mercy and kindness. You must
learn resolve and cunning."
"And killing my sparring partner will teach me that?" Devin asked
dubiously.
"You must learn to shut out your emotions. When you can master your
feelings, turn them on and off at your will then you can be in harmony with
yourself. Those who can take life without mercy are truly free."
"Yes sir," he sighed. He wasn't in any position to argue. His grandfather
was a wise and respected man of the world, how was a 14 year old boy going
to argue with him?
"There's something you're holding back," said Ra's.
"It's nothing."
"If that were the case it wouldn't be bothering you. Tell me, what
troubles you my son?"
"Sifu Quan, he tried to get me to focus my hate on Paulo and when I told
him I didn't hate Paulo, he said I should concentrate on, well, on Damian."
Ra's was quiet for a moment. Damian was his blood, his heir. He couldn't
tolerate a threat to his grandchild but he had to tread carefully. Devin's
veins might not flow with the al Ghul blood but he had value beyond measure
so long as he was a "good boy."
"Did you..."
"No! Grandpa, no. I know we fight and we probably drive you and mom nuts
with our arguing but like I told Sifu Quan, I don't hate my brother. I
wish he was nicer to me. I wish we could be close but I could never hurt
my mother's child. Just thinking about it makes me sick," said Devin as he
sniffled and tried to hide the tears forming in his eyes.
"Of course it does," said Ra's, drawing the boy into a hug. "I'm sorry I
doubted you."
"I couldn't live with myself if I did that. I'd die first," said Devin.
Ra's squeezed the boy tighter and stroked his hair. He smiled out towards
the mountains. Perhaps there was something to be said for Talia's methods
after all?
Devin was quiet that evening. He ate with his family and sat around the
fire with them after dinner, then retired early. He felt a twinge of guilt
every time he looked at Damian but he came to a conclusion. Life is about
choices. You chose who you are and what you want to be and that night, he
vowed to himself no one would ever make him into a kin slayer.
Devin slept soundly that night and woke early. He dressed and headed for
the gym to begin his daily training cycle. When the time came, Paulo
joined him for their sparing match but something was different this time.
The difference was in the similarity. Paulo initiated the same attack he'd
initiated the day before, ending in the same result. Devin found his arm
around his opponent's neck, poised for the death strike.
Devin recalled his conversation with his grandfather the day before. He
remembered words like balance and resolve and just as he was about to
deliver the fatal blow, something strange happened. He blinked his eyes
and a vision came into his head. A man in a cape and cowl stood over a
raven haired boy in a red costume.
"We don't kill. Regardless of what our enemies have done, each death makes
killing easier until we've become what we set out to fight," said the
masked man.
His eyes snapped open and he threw his arms up in submission. Paulo
collapsed to the mat and panted for breath. Sifu Quan stepped forward to
chastise him but Devin pushed past him and ran up to his room.
"What the fuck was that?" he asked himself.
It felt so real, it felt like a memory. Who was the man in the cape and
how did he know what lurked in Devin's heart?
It happened again the next morning and the morning after that. Devin would
find himself poised to snuff out Paulo's life and the masked man would
appear. He'd say those words, "we don't kill," and Devin's resolve would
evaporate. On the morning of the fifth day, Devin found his grandfather
waiting in the gym with Sifu Quan.
"Grandpa, what are you doing here?"
"I thought I'd observe. You don't mind, do you?"
"N-no sir," he stuttered.
The routine was getting so old you could almost set your watch by it.
Paulo entered the gym and initiated his attack. He launched his probing
kicks and punches and once again found himself on his knees with Devin's
arm poised to break his neck.
Do it, just do it, said the voice in the back of Devin's head.
"Do it boy, focus your anger," said Sifu Quan.
The voice in his head was replaced by his grandfather's; you must be
strong, fearless, and resolute.
Sweat beaded on his forehead. He closed his eyes and the masked man
appeared; we don't kill.
He started to get dizzy. The voices began to swirl around in his head,
each fighting the others for dominance.
"Do it boy, do it now!" Sifu Quan ordered.
"STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO DO!" Devin snapped, silencing the voices as he
released Paulo.
Sifu Quan approached him but this time Devin didn't run away. Before the
kung fu master could chastise the boy, Devin rounded on him with anger and
malice burning in his eyes like an emerald fire. His reflexes were
lightning fast. He grabbed Sifu Quan by the throat, his fingers digging in
deeply behind the old man's Adams Apple. With a powerful tug he ripped the
organ from the master's throat leaving a gaping hole behind.
Sifu Quan's expression was one of shock. He reached up to staunch the
bleeding but there would be no stopping the flow of blood. He dropped to
his knees and his lungs filled with blood. It was all over within a matter
of seconds.
Devin's hands fell to his sides. He was breathing heavy yet he remained
calm and in control. His grandfather placed a hand on his shoulder, Devin
rounded on him, nostrils flaring like a viper ready to strike. When he saw
it was his Ra's standing before him, he caught his breath and the fire
melted from his eyes.
"You made the right choice," Ra's smiled.
"I don't understand," Devin admitted.
"There will be time for understanding later, for the moment, how do you
feel?"
Devin looked at the Adam's Apple still clutched in his fist. He looked at
the body of the dead kung fu master and he looked into his grandfather's
eyes.
"I-I don't feel...anything."
"Well done," Ra's smiled as he pulled the boy into a hug.
When Devin returned to his room, Ra's met his daughter in the castle study.
"How did it go?" she asked.
"He's ready. I think it's time we move on to the next phase of his
training."